Dead Frontier/Issue 112
This is Issue #112 of Dead Frontier, titled Next in Line. This is the fourth issue of Volume 19. Issue 112 - Next in Line Cole rises from the bed immediately when he hears Lucy shriek. He can't tell why she looks so shocked by, what he assumes, is just an infected that got a little too close to the house. But upon closer inspection, it's clear her reaction is justified. "Is that...Mae?" he asks, squinting from his position on the bed. He stands and uses the wall as support as he walks over. He stops a few feet behind Lucy, grimacing as Mae uselessly claws at the window, leaving thin streaks of blood along the glass "Jesus Christ...Go--go wake everybody up. I'll deal with her." Lucy takes one last glance at Mae before disappearing out of the room. Hesitantly, he inches closer to the window. He lifts it open, and Mae growls at him almost eagerly. She sticks her head and arms in first, but before she can pull herself into the room completely, Cole grabs the window and brings it down hard on her head. There's a small explosion of blood and brains as her head is smashed between the windowsill and the actual window. He makes no effort to hide the disgusted look on his face, wiping away the small bits of blood that have flown onto his chest. Just a few seconds later, the door flings open wildly and Adam appears, his eyes tired but still darting around nervously. It only takes a minute for his gaze to lock onto the bloody mess at the window. He looks at Cole wordlessly for an explanation. “That was Mae,” Cole says simply, backing away a few inches. ---- “It was just a--a tapping. It went on for a while, and she went to go check it out,” Cole says, gesturing to Lucy, who sits next to him on the couch. She still looks a little flustered from the rude awakening, so she lets Cole explain the situation as best as he can. "And then...infected Mae, just scratching at the fucking window." Everyone is gathered around, their sleep-filled faces trying to take in all of the details. The sun is barely out: it can’t be past 5 AM, and their drowsiness only makes everything that much harder to believe. “Okay,” Adam says slowly, folding his hands on his lap. “Gonna need a few people to go...deal with the body.” No one says anything for a short while until Duke raises his hand reluctantly. “I’ll go,” Duke says. “Not tired anymore, anyway.” “Anybody else?” Dean looks around. He can easily tell no one else is going to raise their hand, and after all the commotion of yesterday, he wants to paint the most positive picture of himself as he can. Seems like no better time than now, selflessly volunteering to dispose of a poor group member’s body. He raises his hand with a shrug. “Sure,” he says passively. ---- As Duke and Dean walk around the side of the house, Mae’s body comes into view. Her body hangs uselessly as her head is stuck firmly in the window. No chance of her going anywhere. Duke lets out a disgusted groan as he and Dean meet around the window. A steady stream of her blood drips down the side of the house, and the bottom half of the glass is stained in a dark red. Dean takes a few steps back and gestures for Duke to take over. Duke shoots him an annoyed glare, but carefully reaches over to grab hold of the window. He lifts it up with one hard pull, and Mae’s body tumbles backward. Besides the clothes, there’d be no other way to tell this was her. “Did she get bit?” Dean asks. “I don’t know. Why don’t you check?” Duke asks. Dean looks as if this might be the worst thing he’s ever had to do. “I did the first part.” Dean moves into a crouch and pulls his shirt up over his mouth and nose. Still, he can smell her, and he’s not sure he can prevent last night’s dinner from making a reappearance. Everything from the neck down looks intact; he can’t see any scratches or bites. Her clothes are clean, besides the bits of blood that cover them. “Oh, God…” he says as he grabs her by the arm. He carefully turns her onto her side. As he does so, some of her hair falls to the side, revealing a large, missing chunk of her neck. “There we go.” Duke kneels down next to him and takes a look at the grisly bite. His lip curls up at the sight of it, the blood dripping and staining the back of her shirt. “Damn,” he says under his breath. ---- “We were both on watch,” Tora explains, a little nervously. All eyes are on her, and she shifts her gaze between the confused faces, all yearning for an explanation. "I guess she saw I was tired and offered to take over. So...I just went to bed. She said she'd be fine...and it--it's Mae: she can handle herself. Nothing weird was going on--no infected, no sounds...nothing." She pauses, waiting for some kind of reaction from anybody. But their faces stay blank, as if hoping for more information. But Tora doesn't know what else she can say. "And then she ends up infected the next morning," Dre says slowly. "Sounds about right." He doesn't bother barring the sarcasm from his words. "Look, I don't know what happened. I--I wish I did, but that's all I can say." She swallows hard. The last thing she wants is more stress, but with the pressure pounding down on her, that's all she gets. She's relieved for a moment when the door opens, and Duke and Dean enter. "She got bit," Duke says. "Back of her neck." He points vaguely behind his head to indicate the area of the bite. "I think we found the infected that did it a few feet away," Dean says. "But he had no brains left so...looks like Mae took care of that." "That's it?" Cole says. "What else do you want? Went out, got bit." He shrugs and finds a seat on one of the couches next to Lienne. She's a little put off by his reaction. He's known Mae for months--longer than most here--yet he acts as if a complete stranger just died. Her eyes meet Cole's briefly, and she can tell the same thought is running through his head. She raises her eyebrows, and he replies with a shrug. "We dug a hole for her, put the body in. Just have to fill it," Duke says. They give Mae a quiet, respectful burial in the house's backyard. The dark, cloudy sky and unusually gloomy and dank weather only add to the chilling mood Mae's death has brought along. Afterward, they head back into the house and retrieve the few last belongings they need to gather before heading off again. Something tells them they won't be missing this house any time soon. Adam does a last check of their supplies to make sure they have everything. He mutters a few curses to himself as he inspects the bags in the trunk of one of the cars. "Are you fucking kidding me...?" he says. He walks over to the other side of the car and taps on the window lightly. Jake sits in the passenger seat, and he rolls the window down upon Adam's request. "You sure you packed everything yesterday?" Adam asks. "Yeah," Jake says. "You packed this car, right?" "...Yeah. Why?" "Wanna tell me why some of the food is missing?" At that, Jake hesitates. "Whoa. I checked three times to m-make sure everything was there." Adam opens the car door impatiently. "Come here," he orders, and Jake complies by following him back to the trunk. Adam's eyes scan over the trunk once again before he picks out a certain black duffel bag. He lifts it up and shoves it into Jake's arms. "Feel how empty that is? It's barely half full." "Everything w-was full when I packed it all. I-I swear." "Look, if you just tell me the truth, I'm not gonna be mad at you. I get it, we've got extra food, maybe you wanted to--" "I didn't t-take shit!" Jake shouts, prompting the car's back door to open. Cole peaks his head out. "Everything okay out here?" Cole asks hesitantly. "Apparently I'm a thief," Jake says. "I never said that," Adam says. "I just want to find out what happened to the food." "Whoa, whoa," Cole says, slowly making his way out of the car. "Food's missing?" "Half a bag's gone." "Seriously?" Cole can't help but take a suspicious glance at Jake, but Jake doesn't notice. His anger is still fixed solely on Adam. "Jake, if it wasn't you, fine," Adam says, taking in the kid's harsh expression, "I believe you." This seems to pacify Jake just a little, but his initial anger at even being accused of something like this is still there. "Thank you," Jake says, and he shoves the bag back into Adam's arms. Adam contemplates saying something, some kind of remark telling him to watch his attitude, but he decides against it. Wouldn't do him any good. Cole takes the bag from Adam and looks through it. It's a small pack, capable of holding a dozen or two cans, but it's lighter than it should be. "You said it was full?" Cole asks, and Adam nods. "Shit...that's like a full four cans, gone." "Yeah. This isn't a fucking joke anymore," Adam says, taking the bag from Cole. He stuffs it into the trunk, and slams the trunk shut with a rage Cole rarely ever sees from him. "I've got no doubt it wasn't you, so find out who the hell it is. If you can, just tell me. No one else." "Yeah, sure. If there's anyone that'll even think about admitting to something like this." "Just try. Already dealt with Winston, but it looks like we can get rid of one more asshole." "Oh. Oh, shit. That's...rough, man." "Everything's fucked up, and I'm tired of it. I don't like it either but--it'll be better in the long run. I wanna be able to trust everyone here, and I can't." "And then, out of all people, you find out it's me. How hilarious would that be?" "Plot twist of the century," Adam says, and they both crack a smile. "Alright, go ahead, crack some heads with that cane and get some answers." ---- The first person Cole decides to talk to is Ivy, and he waits until their first stop to find her. They end up having to refill the trucks sooner than expected, so they pull over to the side of the road. Grassland is still most of what they see, but this street has a few cars spread out here and there. Cole exits the stuffy, hot interior of his truck and into the just as humid air outside. Ivy should be in the vehicle in front of him, and he makes his way over, peeking into one of the back windows when he gets there. He sees Ivy sitting in the back, her face buried into a notebook. What he realizes, after a few seconds, is his notebook. He doesn’t bother to knock on the window and instead flings the door open. Ivy’s wide-eyed, shocked expression tells him all he needs to know, and he snatches it from her without a word. From the passenger seat, Lienne spins around, confused by the sudden ruckus. “I told you, you can only read this when I'' say you can,” Cole says. Ivy’s never heard him sound so harsh, and immediately, the guilt hits her. “Sorry, sorry, sorry,” Ivy spews out. “How’d you even get this?” “It was in your bag.” “You went through my bag?” “Yeah.” “Whoa, hold on,” Lienne says, looking between the both of them but eventually allowing her eyes to set on Cole. “You have a diary?” “No,” Cole says. “It’s not a fucking--” He cuts himself off and sighs. “Forget it. Ivy, I need to talk to you.” He pulls his head out of the car and waves her out. She follows reluctantly and closes the door behind her. “Sorry,” she says again. “It’s fine. I don’t care,” he says, but it’s a weak lie. His cheeks have even turned a little red, but she’s not sure if it’s from embarrassment or anger. “I...didn’t know you had a dad,” she says suddenly, recalling a little of what she read. She receives only silence as a response, and feels the need to go on. “I mean, everybody does, obviously. But--you only ever talk about your mom so I just thought--you know, you didn’t know him or something.” It’s different hearing someone talk about him out loud than writing about it on paper. He feels some sadness stir up inside of him, coupled with a sense of bitterness. “Yeah,” he says. “Why do you hate him?” He has so many answers to that question, he could go on for hours. But he doesn’t, given the somber look on her face, as if she’s trying to hold back as much heartbreak as she can. “Look, Ivy, that’s not...important. Don’t worry about it.” “Oh. I just...always wonder why people say stuff like...like they hate their parents. All the kids would say they hated their mom and dad and stuff and I always thought about how lucky they were to even have two parents. I just--always thought it was dumb, when people said that.” Cole had always assumed something had happened to her father, but he never thought enough about it to ask, and with Kendra gone, he never thought if it was appropriate to ask. So it was an issue he left alone, partly to bar any questions about his own father. “Never knew him, did you?” Cole asks. She shakes her head, then sits down next to the car. It takes him longer, but he plops down next to her. “Mom told me he left before I was even born. But she never said why," Ivy says. "She always said don’t ask about him because...because he’s a terrible person or whatever. I’ve never even seen a picture of him. I--I don’t even think he’d be all that bad. I just wanted families like everyone else’s instead of people asking me all the time where the heck my dad went.” She shrugs. “Wow,” Cole says after a while. “And you still turned out pretty awesome.” She grins, looking down at her shoes, silently contemplating whether to continue with any questions. He, on the other hand, reconsiders bringing up the food situation at all. “I’m kind of confused about something,” she says anyway. “What is it?” “If your dad sucks, how come you think you’re so much like him?” “You read pretty far, didn’t you?” “Yeah. Sorry.” He stares ahead, and Ivy feels like she should fill the silence. “You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to.” “I will. I just suck at putting words together," he says. After a couple more seconds, he finally turns his body toward her. “Alright, Ivy, I know you talk a lot but you’ve gotta promise to keep this between you and me, okay?” “I don’t talk a lot,” she says. “You talk more than anyone I’ve ever met in my entire life, but that’s okay.” He gives her a friendly smile, and her reciprocated grin tells him she probably knows it’s true, too. He looks around quickly, and sees Dre and Dean nearly finishing filling up the gas tanks. “Don’t go walking around, telling my life story.” “I won’t.” “I’m trusting you here. Like, really trusting you.” “Oh, my God, okay, I promise. I’ll shut up for once,” she says, feigning some frustration. “Alright.” He pauses, and breathes. “You know how this happened?” he says, pointing to his right knee. “Someone shot you.” “Right. After it happened I was--I was pretty okay with it, to be honest. I coulda got shot in the head, or the back, or somewhere terrible. But then time went on, realized I couldn’t really do anything, got really frustrated. I felt like I couldn’t complain, ‘cause, you know, I didn’t die at least. So I didn’t say anything for a long time, so I let myself feel...really crappy. Worthless is probably a better word, but you get it. Anyway, I stopped even caring, and then we end up here, on the road, where we actually have to ''try to live. And I thought I would get over it--not being able to do stuff when I wanted, but when we have to volunteer for a supply run or something and I realize I can’t, even if I wanted to...it’s dumb, but I feel like I’m wasting space here. Useless. And you know who else I thought was a worthless piece of crap?” “Your dad?” “Bingo. He didn’t do anything for me. I can’t do anything for you guys. I never did anything with my life, he didn’t do anything for himself, either. I could see myself turning into him one day, and I wouldn’t be surprised. So that’s the answer to your question, I guess.” “That… makes sense, I think,” she says to fill the silence. “You shouldn’t think like that, though. You’re not crap. You’re Cole, the guy with the weird name.” “Yes, I’m named after a fossil fuel, I know. I think you might’ve told me that once or twice,” he says with a laugh. “Well, it’s true. But you’re still cool.” “Glad you think so. You’re a pretty good listener. Guess that gives you some credit.” He’s about to thank her for even taking the time to listen to him complain, when Dre calls out that it’s time for them to leave again. They stand, but Ivy stops Cole before he can return to his car. “Wait, didn’t you want to talk to me about something?” she asks. “Oh, right. You know what--just forget about it.” ---- Night is approaching, and with no signs of life along this empty countryside, they stop near an empty stretch of road. Soon enough, a small, tame campfire is set up a little ways away from the woods, and they begin a mostly silent dinner. Their last bottle of wine is quickly down to its last third, the alcohol being the only thing that’s able to relax them, at least somewhat. “You look unusually happy today,” Lucy remarks to Cole, the both of them sitting a few feet away from everyone else around the fire. She bites down on her forkful of canned ravioli. “It’s the wine,” he says, and he takes a sip out of the flimsy paper cup, but ends up downing the rest of it. “We should probably get some more, then. Nice to see you smile once in a while.” “Nah, my face is starting to get tired.” Truth be told, Ivy’s confirmation that he’s not as useless as he makes himself out to be has resonated with him throughout he entire day. He’s not sure how long it’ll last, but he’s felt slightly more invigorated. Positive, even, although he still has no clue who could be taking the food. Last Adam told him, one of the bags from the other truck was missing some food, too, yet he can’t pinpoint who it might be. He shrugs it off, now that he’s feeling the tiredness set in. He lies back on the grass, putting his hands behind his head and looking up into the slowly darkening sky. Lucy lies down next to him soon after finishing her food, comfortable in the peaceful silence. Not even ten minutes pass before they hear a familiar sound, one none of them have heard for such a long time. The low-pitched hum of a plane engine. They crane their heads up, and the sight is unmistakable. Smoke pouring out of the end of it, the plane descends faster than it should, a few miles away down the field across from them. They’re frozen in their shock, and before they can even realize the plane’s going to crash, it collides with the ground, exploding into fiery ball. ---- Hunter Daft exits the cramped restroom of a small airplane and proceeds through the thin walkway to his seat. He wears a dingy grey tank-top and dark jeans, along with a silver cross necklace that sways as he walks. He stands out from the rest of the passengers on the plane, partly because of his assortment of tattoos. Besides that, the one thing that gets him the most stares are his eyes. One brown; the other a milky blue. He's learned to ignore the odd looks, for the most part, or the assumptions that he's just a burden with one eye. Still, he's quick to correct he's only partially blind in that eye. The other is fully functional, and he's never had any trouble with infected either way. If that doesn't bring enough attention to him, his thick English accent sets him apart from most everyone else in this country. He plops down in an empty seat next to a gorgeous young woman flipping through a magazine. "How was the bathroom?" she asks. "Fantastic," he says. "Never taken a better piss in my life." He reaches down to pull the lever that extends his seat back, completely disregarding the comfort of the man sitting behind him. He lets out a content sigh as he leans back and folds his hands across his chest. He glances at the woman, letting his eyes settle on her for a few seconds. The infamous Farrah Riley, as she’s known. Nearly the epitome of perfection in Hunter’s eyes. "Never get tired of that, do you?" "Nope," she says, not looking up from the magazine. "Why would I?" "Because it's the same shit over and over...be honest, how many times can you read about..." He leans in a little close to the magazine. "'Britney's drastic weight loss' before you get just a bit tired of it?" "Time will tell, I guess." "If you do get bored with it, bathroom's big enough for two." He smiles as she rolls up the magazine and slaps his arm with it. He stretches himself out again, closing his eyes this time. Daniel Everett gazes out his window. He can’t take his eyes off the landscape below: a bright lush green that seems to go on endlessly. The occasional herd passes by, but is quickly replaced once again by the beautiful view down below. A slow smile forms on his face as his mind drifts, mostly thinking about how lucky he is to be sitting on this plane. Before he can delve into his thoughts too much, someone settles themselves in the seat next to him. He looks to see a man he knows as Cedric, although he hasn’t talked to him much. All he knows is he’s just another of the ones chosen for this flight. Cedric doesn’t offer a return greeting; he pulls an iPod out of his pocket and attaches a pair of headphones to the device without the slightest acknowledgment of Daniel. It’s been this way for the entire ride, despite Daniel’s few attempts to make conversation. “So...what do you think it’s like in California?” Daniel asks. “Ever been?” Cedric’s eyes stay fixed ahead on the seat in front of him, and he doesn’t provide a response. He bobs his head slightly to the music flowing in his ears, and Daniel clears his throat. Cedric glances to his left and, noticing Daniel's look, removes the headphones. "Yeah?" Cedric says. "I asked what d'you think it's like in California?" "Don't know. Hot. Palm trees. As fucked up as the rest of the world." "At least it's got palm trees." Cedric forces an uncomfortable grin and goes to slip the headphones back on, but he hears Daniel speak again. "You think it'll actually be better there?" Daniel asks. Cedric contemplates the question. That's what this flight is for, isn't it? To go somewhere better, safer, more secure? "Hope so," Cedric says simply. "Not like we got anywhere else to go." With that, he's lost in his music again, closing his eyes and tapping his foot to the beat. They soar over the flat countryside for a while more, the flight uneventful. Over the speaker, the pilot announces their estimated arrival time, but the words jumble together with Cedric's music, so he doesn't quite catch it. They've got to be in the Midwest somewhere, he guesses from the view out the window. Just a few hours more to their hopeful safe haven. Cedric closes his eyes again, nearly drifting to sleep after a couple minutes, until he's jerked awake by the violent shaking of the plane. His eyes snap open, and the first thing he sees is Daniel staring wide-eyed at the smoke billowing out from one of the engines. Category:Dead Frontier Category:Dead Frontier Issues Category:Issues Category:Walkerbait22's Stories